


Le vent nous portera

by Lothiriel84



Category: The Monster Hunters (Podcast)
Genre: Closeted Character, Heavy Drinking, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sexual Content, The Author Regrets Everything, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 16:52:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17410649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: La caresse et la mitrailleCette plaie qui nous tirailleLe palais des autres joursD'hier et demain





	Le vent nous portera

One of his first memories is of him and the other children in the playground, pretending they were pirates. His then best friend tripped over a root and scraped his knee, so young Roy helped him up, and then kissed him on the cheek, like his mother used to do whenever he was hurt, or sad.

Roy’s father didn’t like that – he didn’t like it at all. He called his son to him, using that tone of voice that invariably meant he was in trouble; then just like that, he slapped him across the face, and Roy had never been hit before, so he started crying.

“You never, ever kiss another boy. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” he sniffled, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

“And stop being such a sissy. Boys don’t cry.”

“Yes, Sir,” he squeaked again, his chest hurting with the effort to stifle his sobs.

“We’re going home now,” his father announced, and young Roy didn’t breathe another word in his presence for the better part of two weeks.

 

Greg Powers is a whole five years older than Roy, which feels like half a lifetime for a boy his age. He’s not thrilled when their families arrange for the two of them to spend time together – _Lord Power’s son is a real man, Roy, you’d better try and follow in his footsteps_ – but still he lets Roy tag along when he goes to nightclubs, and the bouncers keep eyeing that scrawny boy suspiciously, but as he’s with Greg they always let him in.

It’s only much later that he learns Greg and his friends have a bet going on, about when he will finally get some action of his own. He drinks a cocktail that makes his throat burn and his head spin, and lets one of the girls – he didn’t catch her name, there are always girls hanging out with them, and they all look the same to him – take him to one of the rooms at the back, and he feels vaguely excited about what they’re about to do, but mostly terrified, if he has to be honest.

She’s touching him now, and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, doesn’t know if he wants any of this. “Relax,” she whispers in his ear, and then she’s hiking up her skirt, sitting down on him like he’s a bar stool and she’s had one drink too many.

 _Oh, god_ , he thinks, and lets her get on with it. He doesn’t notice the sounds coming out of his throat until he’s crying out in pleasure – it’s unexpected, and too much, and not nearly enough.

Greg pats him on the back, later, and congratulates him on being a real man now.

 

They never kiss. Men don’t kiss one another any more than boys do, but sometimes, when he’s especially bored and there are no girls around, Greg lets him go down on his knees, and – well.

(He never does that for Roy, but that’s fine, he reasons; when they’re done, he can always excuse himself to the bathroom, and take care of the rest. If he asks, then Greg will stop letting him do this, and maybe tell his father, too. Better not to upset the status quo, as his mother keeps saying – and it’s taken him ages to figure out what _status quo_ means, but he wholeheartedly agrees with the sentiment.)

“That’s it – that’s my boy,” Greg encourages him with that throaty laugh of his, and his voice does _things_ to Roy, he believes he could, almost, like this.

( _This is wrong, so very wrong_ , he thinks as he locks the door to the bathroom, takes one hard look at his own reflection in the mirror. _How can anything Greg Powers does be wrong_ , another part of his brain objects. _He’s a Real Man, and this is what real men do, right?_ He tears his eyes away from the mirror, unbuckles his belt, and then finally, finally he’s not thinking anymore.)

 

He thought about it, once – one night when he was very drunk, and sick of pretending to be someone he wasn’t.

 _It’s no use, Lorrimer would never speak to you again if he knew you’re one of –_ them _. Sure, it’s not illegal anymore, but that doesn’t make it any better, now, does it?_

Besides, his friend was still grieving the loss of his wife, back then. And now he’s got Suki, and it’s all hopeless, so he might as well crack open another bottle.

(He wakes up in the morning with a throbbing head and a terrible hangover. Lorrimer lectures him at length on all the terrible effects of drinking too much, then starts fussing over him like he always does; he lets him, even if it makes him ache a little, inside, or maybe it’s just heartburn, he doesn’t know.)

 

After Griselda, he cannot bear to look at another woman for three months. Truth be told, he spends most of that time in a drunken stupor, desperately trying to forget that the only woman he thought he could bring himself to love was never a woman to begin with.

(A body in the shape of a woman, but with Lord Greg’s brain transplanted into it. God, he couldn’t bear to think of all the times they had done – _that_ , and he’d actually liked it, really liked it for the first time ever since he could remember.)

He’s done with all of that now. Done with – everything, actually, so he orders another martini, just in case.

When Lorrimer shows up, he’s pretty sure he’s hallucinating – a ghost from the past manifesting itself with the sole purpose of tormenting him some more. Then all of a sudden there are fish people pointing tridents at them, and they’re being taken away, and it’s like being back in the old days, only better because this is not a memory – and Lorrimer is right there beside him, and maybe, just maybe, whatever it is that they have here, that’s all he needs, for now.


End file.
